Madelyn wrapped up her dinner swiftly and made her way upstairs. She couldn’t afford any distractions now. With exams just around the corner in less than ten days, she needed to be on top of her game, even if she had already secured her spot at Ventropolis College of Art.

A slip-up on this test wasn’t an option. By 11:30 PM, having committed a series of Etlinish phrases to memory, she set her book aside. She was about to switch off the lights and sink into sleep when her cat leaped onto the bed, making itself comfortable by her pillow, its paws kneading rhythmically.

Leaving a soft glow from the bedside lamp, Madelyn stroked its fur. “Even all grown up, you still bake cookies. Goodnight, Ginger.”

As she settled in with her eyes shut and hands tucked under her chin, sleep took her swiftly. It was half-past two when Ethan got back.

Upon noticing the small wound on Ethan’s lip, the servant knitted her eyebrow. “Mr. Arnold,” she began, recognizing the type of wound and drawing from past experiences.

Earlier in the day, Ethan had been just fine. Now, his lips told a different story, and it wasn’t hard to guess why.

a profound gloom enveloped him. “Where’s Madelyn?” he asked.

in Ethan’s

dinner and went upstairs to rest. She must be exhausted

headed upstairs. “If she asks, just tell her

racing. ‘Did he and Miss Jent have another spat?

hilltops, heralding

exams for two hours daily, which means I won’t be home for dinner. If Ethan returns, please pass on the message. If he gets tied up

in a tissue. The servant asked, “Are you sure that’s enough? How about I make you

Every second counted for her, and she didn’t have any to spare. In the days that followed, Madelyn hardly caught a glimpse of Ethan in the Arnold home. More often than not, she

night, as she went downstairs to get some water, Madelyn was met by the sight of Ethan on the couch, a cigarette between his fingers. The room was heavy with the musky

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